


Fleurmione Week 2020

by vuldromeda



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Fleurmione Week 2020, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuldromeda/pseuds/vuldromeda
Summary: My entries for Fleurmione Week 2020 (yes it isn't 2020 anymore but I WILL finish this eventually I stg).Day 1: HospitalsDay 2: RoommatesDay 3: Accidental MarriageDay 4: Boss' DaughterDay 5: Periodical AU (I'm doing royalty)Day 6: SoulmatesDay 7: Free (taking suggestions for this ig)
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 16
Kudos: 199
Collections: Fleurmione Week 2020





	1. Day 1: My Heart's Okay it's Just Your Presence

When Hermione threw herself into med school, she knew she was going to meet some astounding people. Of course, she didn’t think it would a French woman in her first year of residency, a beautiful, fierce woman that Hermione was expected to mentor as a third-year. At first glance, Hermione had to bite back the irritation she felt when she saw the intricately done up-do she donned. It was _just_ her luck that she would get a pretty girl who used her looks to breeze through life and thought she looked cute in a nurse costume.

That was, however, until she met her eyes, dark eyes meeting light ones that sparked with passion. When they broke eye contact, Hermione couldn’t help but stifle her snort at what made the French woman turn: another res already beginning the drama of “who here is actually qualified,” and the blonde couldn’t help but snap at him when her name was mentioned. Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts, then loudly cleared her throat to get the newly graduated physicians’ attention.

“If you’re with Dr. Pomfrey, you’re with me today,” she stated, making sure she projected her voice clearly. “Follow me.” They had patient rounds to do, and Pomfrey was called in when one of her patients suddenly started seizing so she wasn’t there to do them. As she walked down the corridor and up the first flight of stairs, she continued speaking. “Pomfrey does not appreciate wasting time, and I’m no exception. When we ask you questions, you can get it wrong but for the love of god do _not_ insist on continuing your hypotheses until you get it right. We will practice your skills during breaks, which you will have rarely, so you must take advantage of them.” About halfway up the stairs, the silence after her… “introduction,” broke when a meek first-year spoke up.

“Um… Doctor…?”

“Dr. Granger, thank you.”

“Yes, Dr. Granger. Why are taking the stairs instead of the elevators?” Hermione smiled to herself, despite how meek the first-year seemed, at least she had the balls to question methods she found odd or inefficient.

“This takes just as much time as the elevators, and you won’t have the time to keep yourselves in shape for the next few years. Trust me, you’ll begin to appreciate these staircases soon.” Hermione stopped at the landing, opening the door to the second floor of the hospital. “Any questions before we start patient rounds?”

* * *

Over the months, Hermione found herself impressed more and more with the blonde, who she now knew as Fleur Delacour, a promising graduate of Beaubatons, a prestigious med school in France. Why she transferred out of France to St. Mungo’s she had no clue, but she was glad to have her there. While she made mistakes just like every other new doctor, she was quick to pick up on things the others missed, and never made the same mistake twice. Despite the ferocity simmering just beneath her gaze’s surface, she spoke to patients well, her soft French accent and kind demeanor endeared her to many stubborn patients. Of course, she was quick to snap at her peers if they commented on anything without constructiveness, harsh yet fair.

Six months in, Fleur finally managed to notice that she had broken through Hermione’s strict, harsh facade. A well-placed comment to their attending had saved a patients life, and she looked up just in time to see Hermione’s soft smile, radiating pride in Fleur. Of course, when they made eye contact Hermione’s eyes widened, and for the first time, Fleur took in just how _stunning_ Hermione’s irises were. At first glance, they were just a deep brown, but as she took them in she noticed the flecks of gold, the way her eyes looked the way autumn felt. When Hermione snapped out of it, she looked away, a blush creeping onto her face. Keeping that in mind, Fleur raced to catch her during a break, quickly asking, “Why don’t we hang out sometime?”

* * *

At the end of Fleur’s first year, there was a large enough break for Hermione to take Pomfrey’s residents and have them run through standard physicals. To Hermione’s luck, they were odd-numbered that day, leaving Fleur to be paired with her. As Fleur proceeded with the routine, the brunette cursed whatever part of the universe decided to play such a cruel trick on her. It’s not that Hermione doesn’t enjoy being around the blonde, nothing like that. It’s just…

“ _Docteur_ , are you well? Your heart is fast today, _non_?” Hermione winced, she was hoping Fleur wouldn’t mention that. As she helpfully showed the reading, Hermione shook her head.

“It’s not that, it’s just…” What could Hermione say? She had always admired the determination Fleur had, similar to what she was like but with more bite and better social skills. When they started going to bars together or with other residents, Hermione had found more and more to like about the blonde, from her passion to her strength. And… although she didn’t want to admit it to herself, that French accent really did something for her, especially knowing all the ways French could intensify certain, er, “situations.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dr. Delacour,” Hermione attempted a matronly-like smile, although she knew she failed by the way Fleur raised her brow. “Just continue practicing your procedure, please.”

“Only if you finally call me Fleur,” she replied, smirking slightly. “Unless you like calling me ‘Doctor?’”Hermione felt her brain short-circuit, squeezing her thighs together as she sighed. Fleur tended to flirt with her friends, intentionally or unintentionally.

“Fine, Fleur, as long as you finish faster than Strout.” Pouting at her “patient,” Fleur nodded and continued her procedure, and Hermione exhaled in relief, thinking she had dropped the elevated heartbeat. Until, of course, Fleur grabbed onto her forearm as she left the building, pulling her closer and into a dry corner (those damn sprinklers picked the most inopportune time to turn on).

“Please, ‘Ermione, I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“My heart’s fine, Fleur, it’s just…” Hermione glanced around her, seeing the only exit without getting soaked would be through her friend. And so, with a sigh, she mumbled out, “It’s just you.”

“What was that?”

“It’s you, okay?” Looking sheepish at the outburst, Hermione pushed on and repeated herself. Fleur’s eyes widened before she laughed.

“‘Aven’t we been going out for months?” Hermione blushed and looked away. “You British are so prudish sometimes, _non_?”

“I thought you were with Bill?” Hermione questioned, her confusion momentarily overriding her embarrassment.

“Oh, god, no! I don’t _like_ men that way, Bill is just a friend who helped me when I first moved here.” Hermione looked down, speechless. Fleur, however, wasn’t having it, and gently lifted Hermione’s chin. “I apologize for not making my intentions clear, ‘Ermione…” She moved herself closer to Hermione until her nose was grazing the tight curls that framed her face. “Let me make it _very_ clear now, then. I _like_ you, and I _want_ you, as long as you feel the same for me. Still a bit embarrassed, Hermione simply nodded, although Fleur made her let out a breathy moan when she glided her nose across her cheek. As Fleur quickly chuckled at her sensitivity, Hermione gave in and turned her head, pressed their lips together. When they pulled apart, Hermione grinned at her (finally) girlfriend and asked the one thing she knew would make Fleur laugh.

“So… why don’t we hang out sometime?”


	2. Um, Who Are You?

Fleur sat on the bed with a sigh, sitting at the edge to avoid the still-folded sheets she left on the bed. Looking around, she smiled; for her senior year of college, getting a double to herself was pretty nice. There were still some unpacking to be done, but she could do it tomorrow, after she got off her feet for a bit. But… she couldn’t do that without making her bed, could she. So it was with yet another sigh that she got up again, moving her sheets onto the nearby desk before unfolding each one by one to make a neat arrangement. She had added a bit of a soft backing against the wall, so her bed could easily double as a sofa as needed. Perhaps she could do through some of the required reading she needed to get done before her first classes?

Just as she got comfy with her laptop, legs curled up under her, she heard the lock to her door make a sound, like someone jamming the wrong key into it. As she tensed, the sound stopped. And then continued, but this time like it was the right key, just pushed too quickly in. Fleur froze in place, panicking over  _ what do I do ça ne peut pas arriver am I going to die merde wh-- _ the door opened, revealing a somewhat short, bushy-haired brunette with wide eyes, large rolling luggage in hand.  _ Oh. _

“Um… Fleur, right?” Her gaze swept across the room, inspecting the amount of space she would have, probably. “You’re really pretty, you know?” She blushed, then slapped a hand on her forehead. “Sorry, really shouldn’t have said that, I just… yeah.” The brunette took a step into the room, causing Fleur to snap out of it and start sputtering a bit.

“Who are you, again?” Fleur’s soft accent made her bluntness a bit less harsh, but it still caused the girl to pause, snapping her gaze to Fleur again.

“Did the university not tell you,” she asked in a way that showed that it wasn’t  _ really  _ a question but a realization. “Of  _ course  _ they wouldn’t tell you, it's not like they didn’t give me a way to contact you or anything…” she continued talking to herself for just under a minute as Fleur stared, before trailing off and blushing yet again. “Sorry, I’m Hermione Granger, a sophomore here. There were housing errors and I got put into the overflow, the Dean told me I’d be with you since you were in a double without a roommate.” At that, Fleur nodded, it seemed that if there was an error they wouldn’t figure it out until it was basically too late.

“Well, ‘Ermione… I guess it is nice to meet you, despite the shock.”

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Hermione smiled brightly at Fleur, walking fully into the room and setting her luggage down next to the bed that Fleur had (mercifully) left empty. “So… do you wanna talk about boundaries?”

Throughout the semester, the girls had found that they did have quite a bit in common (“You do timetables, too!”). Of course, there was occasionally a bit of an odd tension, such as when Fleur learned that Hermione was good with her hands (how did she make a seven-strand braid look so perfect?), or when Fleur told Hermione about how artichoke was brought by the Medici’s to France despite women not being allowed to eat it due to the belief it would arouse genitalia… while she carefully scraped off the soft flesh of a leaf with her teeth. Yeah, Hermione definitely took a colder shower than usual after that.

One night, while they were huddled on Fleur’s bed with a laptop between them—they had decided to spend one night a week together to make fun of B- or C-list horror movies, a shared passion—a bowl of popcorn on Hermione’s lap, they made a fatal mistake. They accidentally picked a  _ good  _ horror movie, the kind that makes you hide away behind your hands and sleep with a light on for a few nights. Fleur, despite her bravado (she had fought against a kind of discrimination shown through quiet deaths that were always unsolved and mysterious disappearances, after all), had found herself jumping and covering her eyes every once in a while. By the end, she was a bit shivery, to the point where she almost screamed when she felt an admittedly gentle touch. Looking up with widened eyes, she found Hermione looking at her with enough of a blush that it had spread to the tips of her ears.

“Why don’t you come a bit closer and you can turn into me when you need to?” Her voice was so quiet Fleur had to strain slightly to hear her. With a slight nod, she moved off the popcorn bowl and scooted over to press herself against Hermione, then quickly grabbing joining their hands and squeezing tightly when there was another jumpscare. While this worked fine, at the climax of the movie Fleur couldn’t help but hide her face in the crook of Hermione’s neck, accidentally hitting lips against collarbone.

“Oww…” Fleur mumbled, not bothering to move her face from being smushed against Hermione.

“What, need me to kiss it better?” Fleur felt Hermione’s neck tilt slightly, a clear sign that she was smirking at Fleur. And of course, the French woman simply couldn’t have  _ that. _

“Anything to make me simply scared, instead of scared and hurt, _ non _ ?” Fleur smiled to herself, feeling Hermione begin to heat up. What she didn’t factor in, however, was that Hermione was rarely one to back down from a challenge, which she realized a little too late when she felt them being moved apart a bit.

“Then maybe I should, huh…” she responded, attempting to seem chill by steadfastly ignoring her raging blush as she gently held Fleur’s chin up to make eye contact. With widened eyes, Fleur decided to just go with it, nodding slightly instead of daring to trust her voice. Hermione slowly moved their lips closer, until…

The kiss became more passionate quicker than expected. What had started as a soft and sweet kiss became a distracting experience, the laptop (and movie) ignored. Since Fleur had already been a bit more inclined, the pair had found the blonde on top. While they didn’t get past slightly wandering hands, when they separated they found themselves with heavy breaths and somewhat shy smiles.

“So… did I help you feel better?” Fleur halfheartedly scowled at her.

“I think it’s obvious you did more than that, ‘Ermione.”

“Well, maybe we could keep doing more than that?” Fleur laughed, shaking her hand and breaking the tension fully.

“That is  _ so  _ dorky.” Hermione gave a faux-scandalized look, holding her hand to her heart.

“I would  _ never _ !”

“Really? I was hoping to have a cute dork in my life.”

“Well… maybe I’ll be a little dorky, just for you…” Hermione grinned. “As long as we finish this movie tomorrow.”


	3. Secret of the Veela

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 3, accidental marriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Updates once a week," tell that to my PCOS lmao. Anyways here's the third prompt, I'm going to finish this even if it takes until next year's Fleurmione week.

Veela were notoriously secretive for a reason, you know. When you were a kid, you may have heard tales of them killing to preserve their culture. If you asked Fleur Delacour, arguably the most known veela (although that was technically an open secret), she would simply smile and feign confusion, although her eyes would twinkle just a bit too much to look authentic. Of course, if you were one Hermione Granger, you wouldn’t let those red lips deter you in your quest for knowledge, the threat of death be damned.

“Wouldn’t the rumor that veela are deadly be worse for your reputation than any of the cultural secrets?” Fleur rolled her eyes. She had run into the brunette on more than one occasion during the Triwizard Tournament in the library, and initially found her thirst for knowledge endearing before someone let it slip that Fleur was a veela and Hermione began her quest for more information. However, although normally she would cast a subtle memory charm to keep the risk of accidentally spilling information away, Fleur found Hermione’s persistence charming. Of course, it was mostly because, like many things in Hermione’s life, she wanted to learn about veela culture to determine what needed to be changed in the Ministry, something she kept a list of “for the future.”

That was all before today, the day before Hermione’s 18th birthday. Bill and Fleur had become good friends during Order missions, so Fleur coming around the Burrow even after the war had become a pretty common sight. In this case, Hermione was the odd one out, she told everyone she wouldn’t be there today to prep for her birthday, which Molly was meticulously planning (“You only turn 18 once, dear!”).

“‘Ermione, aren’t you supposed to be with your parents, today?” Hermione sheepishly grinned at the Frenchwoman.

“Well… I heard that you weren’t going to make it tomorrow so I wanted to see if I could surprise you into answering today.”  _ Oh, that’s right.  _ Fleur was originally booked to curse-break something from Malfoy manor, presumably from Voldemort himself, but she had managed to work late enough to get to it that morning so she could give Hermione a gift in person instead of through Molly like she did for her 16th.

“You should know better than that,  _ ma fille en or. _ ” As expected, Hermione flushed at that (being called the golden girl was so much nicer when it didn’t sound like such an important title).

“Never hurts to try, right?” Fleur raised an eyebrow at that, making Hermione laugh. “Of course not, if you would really kill me for it, huh?” Her tone signified the obvious disbelief. “Anyway, I was really here to see if Molly wanted me to bring anything, but she threw me out of the kitchen,” Hermione pouted at that. “I know I should’ve expected that but I feel bad not helping somehow.”

“Don’t worry, ‘Ermione.” Fleur smiled, her signature red lip highlighting her teeth further, all just slightly more pointed than normal. “Just spend the day with your parents and relax for once, you deserve it.” Hermione hesitantly nodded, then took her leave, leaving Fleur to finalize her present.

The next day, Hermione arrived to a full Burrow--well, fuller than usual. As she began greeting those who came to celebrate, the crowd became large enough that she didn’t notice Fleur. However, Fleur most certainly noticed Hermione.

You see, there was a reason there was such a thing as the veela secret, and Fleur ended up finding herself prey to the most well-protected secret of all: mates. Much like werewolves, veela mates were rare, but even rarer to find due to the way in which they were only for the alphas of the species, of which Fleur found herself a part of. However, soulmates were a well-guarded secret due to the way in which magical cores were impacted--shared cores allow the bonded pair to become more powerful, and created a bit of a magical “reserve” for either mate to do at any given time. And, to Fleur’s initial horror, now that Hermione was 18 her inner veela recognized her as her mate.

“Fleur!” Fleur was shocked out of her racing thoughts by her mates--no, Hermione’s voice (she knew better than to immediately think of the brunette as hers). “I didn’t think you were going to be here!” She embraced the still-shocked Fleur before continuing. “You must have worked yourself half to death to make it today. Merlin, I love you.”  _ Shit _ . Those three words paired with the embrace were enough for the soul bond, and with a flash of light the two were as good as married, except this wasn’t reversible. Practically jumping away, Hermione stared at the mortified blonde as those around them looked at the pair with curious eyes.

“Sorry, I accidentally touched ‘Ermione’s wand,” she quickly said to the room as explanation before pulling Hermione to her again and whispering, “Can we talk upstairs?” At Hermione’s nod, they rushed up into the room Hermione occasionally shared with Ginny.

“So, what was that?” Hermione raised a brow at Fleur. “We both know you didn’t touch my wand.” Fleur panicked. There was no easy way to explain the situation, and Hermione could see through any of the half-baked lies she had come up with. So…

“You’re my mate and we’re basically married now,” she rushed out, almost too quick for Hermione to comprehend.

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?”

“We keep our lives secret for a reason, ‘Ermione.” Fleur took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Mates are rare but give so much more power, if that was known our souls and love would be exploited.” At Hermione’s questioning look, she continued, “Our bonds become accepted rather easily, too promote the strongest of the species, and bind the non-veela to secrecy to ensure our safety.” At that, Hermione laughed a little.

“So I’m in a relationship now  _ and  _ I get my questions answered?” Hermione grinned at her now-wife.

“ _ Non,  _ ‘Ermione, you don’t understand, you can reverse this, I’ve stuck myself to y-” Hermione cut her off with a soft, quick kiss.

“I have always fancied you, you know,” she told the shocked veela. “And knowledge is, quite frankly, the best birthday gift I could get.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr @vuldromeda, let me know what you think of this :)


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